


Running and Not Stopping

by FrostKitten



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Becoming an Ace Trainer, Cult, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Journey Starting Later than Usual, Non-Graphic Violence, Non-Traditional Starter Pokemon, On the Run, Original Character(s), Runaway, Survival Journey, The Church of Giratina, Why does Trapinch not have a tag?, implied attempted murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:59:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostKitten/pseuds/FrostKitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cole Delaney grew up in a normal town. He had a mostly normal childhood, up until he was ten. He didn't go on his journey because missionaries from the Church of Giratina told his mother that it was too dangerous and she believed them. She believed a lot of things they told her.</p>
<p>Like when they told her the only way to save their eternal souls to move to Haven.</p>
<p>Or when they told her Cole had to die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Run until your legs go numb...then run some more.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm feeling rather inspired to write a doomsday cult fic. Not sure why. This is about twenty percent planned and eighty percent flying by the seat of my pants, but I'm feeling the urge to write, so I'll try to update consistently and not give up on this one. I'm also not sure how long this will go for or if it will be part of a series or not. The formatting is a bit experimental; I'm used to FFN's system, so I'll go back and edit if it's no good here.
> 
> I clearly do not own Pokemon, or Reese's Pieces. Or Chevrolet. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy ^.^

Cole Delaney was not a particularly fit teen, he knew. Sure, he played sports with his friends and did well enough in P.E., but that hadn’t prepared him for this.

 He gasped for breath, his chest tight, lungs and legs burning. Foliage brushed past his face in a multi-colored blur, the thin, flexible branches whipping his face, arms, and legs. Early autumn was just setting in, but the air was still muggy and hot, and that would not aid him against his pursuers. His uniform, once the pristine white of a sacrifice, was stained with mud. His wavy brown hair was full of twigs and leaves. He wanted to stop, but the pounding footsteps behind him convinced him otherwise.

 Bile worked its way up his throat, a combination of sorrow, desperation, and the prolonged sprint for life and freedom he was in now; he swallowed it back down, ignoring the sour mustiness it left in his mouth. Tears blurred his vision, but he blinked them away and kept his feet moving. He kept his eyes on the ground, counted his steps, and pushed aside the memories in his head. And eventually, to his intense relief, his body found its rhythm, and he felt like he could go forever—or at least for a lot longer than he originally thought. It helped that his legs had started to numb up.

 But then life and the universe decided to kick him in the ass. This wasn’t a really new occurrence—it had been doing so for the last few years—but this was the first time it had decided he needed to fall off a small cliff.

 He didn’t even have time to feel anything but numb shock before he hit the ground, body somehow remaining limp. He landed butt first, his head slamming against the cliff behind him. He gratefully accepted the darkness it offered.

* * *

 

 He knew he was dreaming, because this event had happened almost a decade ago.

 He was sitting at the top of the stairs, his legs pressed to his chest. He sniffled and rubbed at his eyes with one grubby hand while the other clutched his Teddiursa doll. Dimly, he remembered throwing that doll in the trash a year later, when he turned six—it was so dirty and full of holes it could almost be called a Banette—but his dream-self cuddled it anyway. He knew—remembered—it was raining outside, but he currently couldn’t hear it.

 Downstairs, Mommy and Daddy were screaming at each other again. Daddy had a suitcase at the bottom of the stairs, the one he took when he went on business trips with Miss Ellen. Mommy had colored her hair a few weeks ago so it was blonde like Miss Ellen’s; Cole had thought it was weird, but he hadn’t said anything because Mommy had gotten into the locked cabinet and he was supposed to be in bed. He hadn’t wanted to be spanked again for being a bad boy. Or to make her cry, because sometimes she did that instead.

 Mommy told Daddy she didn’t care if he ran off with some two-faced jailbait whore, as long as she never saw him again. Well, she screamed it from the kitchen entryway. Then Daddy yelled that Miss Ellen was better than a conniving bitch like Mommy, so Mommy threw something at him. He flinched as it hit the wall at the bottom of the stairs, the candy dish now an unrecognizable mess of glass and Reese’s Pieces.

 “You could have killed me!” Daddy screeched.

 “Good! Then the world wouldn’t have to put up with a cheating bastard like you!”

 That was Daddy’s last straw, because he grabbed the suitcase and stomped out the door. Mommy retreated into the kitchen; Cole could hear other things breaking. He could also hear the car starting.

 Cole’s eyes widened. Why was Daddy leaving without saying goodbye? He rushed down the stairs out the door in time to see the car pull out of the driveway. The tires squealed as it accelerated away, partly from the driver and partly from the rain.

 He ran across the yard, bare feet squelching in the mud and sliding across slick tufts of grass. He almost fell face-first into it, dropping the Teddiursa doll in a mud puddle in order to keep his balance and run faster. His feet slapped against concrete; he chased the rapidly receding form of his family’s Chevy.

 Even when he couldn’t see it anymore he kept going, the vibrations of his feet on sidewalk making his legs feel shaky and weird. Finally he reached the far end of the street and stopped.

 It was hours before he finally turned around and went back home. The rain had stopped and it was already dark; he had picked up his Teddiursa from the yard and brought it inside with him. But none of that—the late hour, the water he dripped on the floor, the muddy doll—caught his mother’s attention. She was slumped over the kitchen table, one hand loosely wrapped around what his older self recognized as tequila.

 It was impossible, because she was across their tiny house from him, but the smell of it hit him and made his stomach roll. He gagged, turned away, and—

 —heaved, bile once more crawling up his throat as his eyes fluttered open.

 “All I can see are ‘is legs,” a voice whined somewhere above him. “Can’t see if ‘e’s dead or not.”

 Cole held his breath, fighting the urge to pant now that he had stopped moving. No telling how long he had been unconscious, but his pursuers had apparently only just gotten there. He fought to keep still, despite the desire to movemovemove! Dried sweat itched; fresh rolled across his skin to settle in the welts and cuts, making them burn. His whole body ached steadily, though not as badly as he had expected. His dirty uniform stuck to his body in the most uncomfortable places.

 A rock crumbled from the cliff above and landed squarely between his legs, startling him. With adrenaline still pouring through him, it was all he could do not to curl up in a ball and cry. Then he heard an unmistakable sound that made his lip curl in disgust as something wet landed in a glob on his knee.

 A different man snorted. “’e’s dead a’ight. No one could keep that still.”

 He heard them walk away, crashing through the woods, but still he lay there. Partly to make sure they had really gone—he was afraid if they had tiptoed back to see if he had done anything—and partly because his head hurt so badly it made him want to puke.

 He stayed there long enough for the moon to start rising, and for his eyes to start sliding shut. Then, despite knowing how bad an idea it was, he allowed himself to relax to the sound of singing Kricketots and Kricketunes and fell asleep. 


	2. Running into New Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've semi-settled on updating Wednesday night/Thursday morning, mountain time. This gives me about a week to write and read over a chapter, in between work and personal projects.
> 
> For those wishing to know, I'm judging distances based on both the anime and guesstimating how far a semi-fit teen can walk in a day. For games, taking two seconds to get through a route is great; for a story, it doesn't make much sense.

Cole stood out by the mailbox, warm sunlight filtering down. It was summer, almost the end of vacation. The red flag on the side of the box was up in the air.

 He remembered this day.

 He cheerfully popped the mailbox open and grabbed the mail, flipping through the envelopes. Mom, Mom, Mom, Dad—he frowned and made a note to shred it—Mom…and one for him. He blinked and stared at the return address.

 

_Rustboro Training Academy_

_Rustboro City, Hoenn..._

 

He swallowed, his palms suddenly sweaty. He knew what this was. One month ago, he had taken his Trainer’s Exam to try for his license, limited though it would be for a minor. He hadn’t cared; he only wanted to travel, make friends, make his mother proud. He was sure this would be the right way to; it was ambitious, and that was always one of her complaints about his father. No ambition beyond conquering his secretary.

 He worked a finger under the flap and ripped it open, taking only enough care to keep from tearing the contents. The envelope was thick; hopefully that was a good thing. He worked the papers out and unfolded them. The first page bore the official Hoenn League foil seal.

  _Dear Mr. Delaney,_

_Thank you for completing the Trainer’s Examination. As you may know, this exam was developed to test potential trainers on their knowledge of Pokemon and their care to prevent potential abuse. We wish to congratulate you on passing this exam and becoming an official League trainer…_

 A wide grin split his face. He flipped to the next page, which bore a black-and-white image of the academy’s crest and a temporary paper license. His school picture stood in the upper left corner, the Hoenn League seal superimposed over the top. His information was scrawled next to it. The letter was from the school itself, notifying him that he must let the League know he received his license and activate it by the date listed in order for it to be valid, to prevent identity theft and fraud.

 He laughed. Finally, he could go on a Pokemon journey! He shot towards the door, barely able to contain his glee. He pushed the door open. “Mom, it came! I got it! I got my license!”

 “Cole, welcome home!”

 He looked over at the couch, a little surprised at the response. She was sitting in the worn out blue armchair, with two men in suits on the couch. She had actually dragged out the tea set she had gotten from her parents as a wedding gift, the one she said reminded her far too much of his father, and why hadn’t she gotten to throwing it out yet? Even if it was from the Glass Workshop on Route 113 and was her favorite shade of red.

 Both men were fairly young—enough so that he was wondering what on Earth they could want with his mother. One, a dirty blonde with chocolaty brown eyes, wore a friendly enough smile. Like he wanted to be nice, even though it would probably be awkward. The other had flat brown hair and dark eyes and just stared, his mouth a thin frown.

 “You allowed your son to become a trainer?”

* * *

_Tap, tap._

 Cole groaned and blinked his eyes open. He had fallen over onto his side, half slumped over a rock. It was, as he discovered when he woke up, an extremely uncomfortable position to be in.

  _Tap, tap._

 There was a weight settled on his shoulder. Claws dug through his uniform shirt and into skin, and he caught a glance of cool grey feathers out of the corner of his eye. What Pokemon was that? What was native to Sinnoh again?

 “Hey, get off him!” The bird chirped a response. “That is _not_ a polite way to wake someone. Who taught you it was?”

 Cole looked around to the speaker in time to get a face full of grey feathers as the bird spread its wings, whistling in an exasperated fashion. He could almost hear it saying, _it’s better than shrieking in his ear, human._

 He would get no answers by laying there, especially with a bird wing in his face, he decided tiredly. Carefully, he shrugged his shoulder, trying to dislodge the bird. It squawked indignantly and fluttered away, allowing a beam of sunlight to assault his eyes. He squinted against it, looking over at the figure that had found him.

 The young woman in front of him seemed to be glaring at the bird, hands on her hips. Her wavy brown hair fell below her shoulder blades even while it was pulled back into a ponytail, her bangs brushed back from her eyes. She was wearing a white shirt underneath an open red-and-gold jacket that fell to just above her ribcage, the shirt tucked into a pair of black shorts that fell mid-thigh with a two inch gold trim. Her black socks came to her knees, with a strange insignia over the shins, and her black combat boots ended just over her ankles, laced in dark yellow. Her belt was wrapped around her waist instead of threaded through belt loops, and instead of containing the usual number of PokeBalls Cole was used to seeing with trainers, it only held a PokeNav and a small red device that looked almost like an older model of phone.

 A Ranger, he realized, his chest seizing in panic. An Area Ranger out on patrol, maybe even looking for poachers; this area of Sinnoh had seemed to have an unusually high number of them. Unsurprising, considering how close the Haven Compound was from where a colony of Gible resided, deep within Wayward Cave. He prayed silently that she didn’t go check up on the compound and blab about him.

 “Um, are you okay?”

 Cole snapped back to reality, face flushing slightly as he realized he had zoned off while staring at her. “I’m fine,” he muttered, looking at the ground. And it wasn’t entirely a lie; his head didn’t hurt too badly anymore, and nothing felt broken, just sore. He started to push himself to his feet, swaying as he stood.

 Her skeptical look turned into wide-eyed horror at the state he was in, and he couldn’t help but blush harder. He knew he must look horrible—the garments he had been given for the ritual were pure, snowy white, and his run for life and liberty had seen him through brambles, mud puddles, and the occasional stream. He couldn’t help but cringe, though; he had spent the last five years trying to escape the notice of people, and the feeling of her sharp, focused attention on him made him want to run and hide.

 “Were you mugged?” she demanded. “Just tell me what they looked like—”

 Like normal people, he answered silently, shaking his head rapidly. “I was just…exploring, running around, I slipped off the cliff,” he said hurriedly, jerking his thumb upwards. It really wasn’t as tall as he had originally thought yesterday. “Not even hurt, see?” He spread his hands.

 She snorted at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “Exploring, huh? What were you looking for, then?” she asked skeptically, her eyes narrowing.

 “Um…a Gible?”

 “Is that a question or an answer?”

 “I was looking for a Gible.” He swallowed nervously. The bird shrieked at him, making him jump.

 “Starly doesn’t believe you,” she informed him. “She thinks you’re lying. And I agree.” She gestured at his outfit. “No pockets, no backpack, no belt, no way to carry PokeBalls, a license, or even a poacher’s kit.” She gave a put-upon sigh. “You could at least _try_ to be believable.”

 “I’m not lying,” he argued incredulously. “I wasn’t going to catch one anyway, I just wanted to look. Then I was going home.”

 “Oh really? You decided to go exploring in a white outfit, with no supplies, and then you were just going home?” She gave him an unimpressed look. “So where do you live?”

 He froze. “Um…” He couldn’t tell her he was from Haven; she would probably want to escort him back. But what was nearby? He couldn’t remember, and only the people preparing to go on their missions were really taught the geography of the region. So he blurted out the first town that came to mind. “Twinleaf Town!” he almost shouted.

 For a moment, he was simply proud he had managed to remember any town name at all. Then she raised an eyebrow at him. “Who the hell do you think you are?” she asked, strangely calm. The Starly chirped as if in agreement, feathers slightly ruffled.

 “What do you mean?” he asked nervously. Arceus above, what had he said wrong? What was wrong with Twinleaf Town? That _was_ a town here in Sinnoh, wasn’t it? He slid a foot back, his heel bumping into the cliff behind him, a silent reminder that there was nowhere to run.

 “Twinleaf Town is at least two weeks away by bike, with shortcuts, and you don’t have any Pokemon.” She grabbed her PokeNav and flipped it open, a red indicator flashing on the screen. “That light is where we are now,” she said slowly. Then she pressed a button, then the screen, and a blue light appeared in the lower left area of the screen. “That blue light is Twinleaf Town.” She fixed him with a hard stare. “What’s really going on here?”

 He bit his lip. He couldn’t tell her about Haven; she would think he was lying. Churches don’t ritually murder teenagers, after all. Then he shook his head. “I’m…leaving,” he said finally, shifting. “I’m going…um…” He paused uncertainly. Where could he go? He had been confined to the compound like everyone else; he had no clue what the nearest city even was. He didn’t even know if his visa was still valid, just knew he hadn’t ever taken a test or filled out paperwork for Sinnoh citizenship.

 Her face softened as she clipped the PokeNav back to her belt. “Running away with nowhere to go,” she commented softly. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you how stupid that is?”

 He glared at her. “I couldn’t stay there,” he snapped, hands curling into fists briefly before relaxing again. “Anywhere else is better.” Even if it hurt to leave his mother with them, but he had finally realized she was no longer the mother he needed her to be.

 “Yeah, I guess,” she said sympathetically. She tugged at her own ponytail. “We’re only a day outside Eterna City,” she said slowly. “There’s a Ranger Base there. Why don’t you come back with me? You can get cleaned up there, at least.” She eyed his white uniform.

 “That sounds really good,” he admitted, brushing ineffectually at his shirt. “Are you sure it wouldn’t be too much trouble?” he asked, silently wondering why she was even bothering.

 “Nope, not at all,” she said cheerfully. “I’m supposed to be switching with another Ranger, so I was headed back anyway.” She smiled brightly. “I’d be happy for the company.” She checked something on her PokeNav. “It’s about a day’s walk that way,” she said, pointing north. “Think you’re up for the walk?”

 Cole flashed her a quick smile. “Course I am,” he said, a little grim. He didn’t really have a choice; he couldn’t survive out here for very long on his own. “I’m Cole,” he added, belatedly realizing he had never introduced himself.

 “I’m Ranger Katya. Now, let’s get going, or we’ll never get there!” The Starly chirped and lifted off, landing on a tree branch, and they followed after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading.


	3. Running Through the City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG this chapter D: It was not very easy to write, at all! But it's done, and on time, when I worried that it might not be. A little shorter than I wanted, but I hope you guys like it anyway. 
> 
> The main plot really kicks off here. There is also a secondary that's still somewhat in its planning stages, and no, it is not romantic in nature. Or at least, I don't think it will be. I'll see how it goes.
> 
> Oh, and because someone asked me on FFN, I'll say it here, too: my inspirations for this come mainly from four things. Pedestal and Ree Majors, by Digital Skitty. Skies As Grey As Battleships, by Falcitrix. Those three are on FFN. The other is Armageddon Summer, by Bruce Coville and Jane Yolen.

Katya was extremely helpful, Cole found. On their way to their destination, she had picked him up some necessities, waving off his protests at the amount of money she spent on it. “Take it,” she insisted. “Unless you wanted to borrow James’ boxers,” she said slyly, “you don’t really have much choice.” The shopkeeper had given him an odd look, which Cole avoided, finally taking the packages she handed him without complaint.

 Now, water pouring lightly down his body in the shower, he couldn’t help but wonder if she would be willing to help him again. He didn’t want to go back to Hoenn, which would be the most likely outcome if it turned out his visa was no longer any good, and he was hoping she would be willing to point him the right direction. Steeling himself, he shut off the water and dressed, hoping she was still in the house.

 She was on a couch in the living room, typing on a laptop. She had switched from her Ranger uniform to a more casual outfit, a forest green scoop neck shirt and blue jeans. Her eyes flicked up briefly. “Finally done?” she teased, flashing a quick grin to take the bite from the remark.

 “Yeah. Sorry I took so long.” He shrugged, embarrassed. It had been way too long since he had had a shower that was better than lukewarm. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something,” he admitted hesitantly, hands twisting together in front of him.

 She looked up, leaning back into the couch cushions. “What is it?” she asked curiously, closing the lid on the laptop. “Does this have anything to do with why you were out in the woods?”

 “Sort of,” he hedged. “I’m not sure where to start,” he admitted. She nodded silently, staring at him expectantly. He took a deep breath. “My mom brought us out here for…for religious reasons. They’re the ones holding all our papers, and when I decided to leave…” He trailed off with a halfhearted shrug.

 “They kept the papers,” she finished. She hummed thoughtfully. “Did you want to stay here in Sinnoh, then?”

 He nodded. “Mom’s here, and I have no idea where my father is.” Even if he never saw her again, he wanted to stay close, he had decided. Just in case. “Is there any way to apply for citizenship without the papers?” he asked hopefully, finally getting to the question stuck in his mind.

 “There might be,” she said slowly, staring off at the wall behind him. “I’m not sure of the specifics, so I’ll have to ask. One question first, Cole?”

 “Shoot.”

 “Are you a pacifist?”

* * *

 

“That’s really it?” Cole asked numbly, staring at the folder he had been given. It was glossy and red, with a white gym symbol on the front. Inside was a booklet and sheaf of paperwork. All he had to do was fill out the paperwork to start the process. Citizenship couldn’t really be that simple, could it?

 “Doesn’t seem like a lot, does it?” Cole shook his head. The man across the desk grinned at him. “On paper, it really isn’t,” the man admitted, scratching at his forearm, “and mentally, it isn’t. But physically, it’s very challenging if you aren’t prepared.” He eyed Cole for a minute, clearly thinking he wouldn’t have too difficult a time.

 “So I can just fill this out and leave?” Cole asked doubtfully. This really couldn’t be so simple, even though it made a lot of sense.

 “Technically, yes,” he admitted. “Read through the booklet, fill out the paperwork, and bring it back by Monday. There’ll be a transport leaving in three weeks, we should have just enough time to get you in the system.” The man smiled charismatically. “It’ll be a good opportunity for you,” he assured the teen. “Ace Trainers can go straight into the military with few problems once they’re adults.”

 Not something he was sure he wanted to do, he thought privately, but he liked the option. “Thank you, sir,” he said aloud, pushing his chair back. “I’ll bring this back on Monday.” He held out his hand to shake.

 The recruiter stood as well, smiling widely. “See you after the weekend, then.” They shook hands, and Cole left the office.

 Outside, under the bright sunlight, Cole closed his eyes for a moment. His stomach was already working itself into knots over his decision, but he wasn’t going to back down now. He opened his eyes with a sigh and started walking towards the ice cream parlor across the street; he was a little late, but hopefully Katya would still be there. She could help him with the paperwork and maybe they could get a cone while they were there.

 Thankfully she was. She waved to him from a table outside, red and white umbrella shielding her from the bright sunshine. Her Starly companion was perched on the back of her chair, and a bowl of water had been placed on the table for it. Cole waved back and jogged over, gripping the folder tightly to keep it from crashing onto the ground.

 “You’re going for it, then?” She eyed the folder. Starly chirped and hopped over to him, nibbling at the ends of his hair. He nodded, scratching the top of Starly’s head. “Thought about your starter?” she asked.

 “Don’t they give you one?” he asked, frowning slightly. He didn’t have any way of buying one, and he wasn’t going to let her buy or catch one for him; even his pride had limits.

 “Yeah, if you don’t already have one. I had a brother who went in,” she added, seeing his questioning look. “He’d already collected all his badges…wonder how they’ll handle that?” she wondered aloud.

 “Handle what?”

 “Ace Trainers are supposed to have all their badges. They’re the elite, they have to do it all and then go farther.” She grinned. “My brother used to do tricks with his Charizard, Cherry. There was one time when he jumped off Cherry’s back and let her catch him, Mom was soooo mad…”

* * *

 

He knew he was dreaming. Not because he was fighting monsters or reliving memories, but because of where he found himself.

 He was standing in the middle of a forest. The time of day was indeterminate; the canopy was thin, but too high up to see the sun. What light managed to filter down was greenish and warm. There were no paths or Stantler trails, no clearings. Just trees, tall and proud, with no branches venturing low enough for him to climb. Grass on the forest floor reached mid-calf, and no bush reached past his knees.

 The bushes themselves were bare of any berries, which he found strange; with all the light, the loamy soil, the berries should have been plentiful and fat. Instead they were nonexistent. He kneeled down, frowning, trying to figure out why.

 Underneath the bush was an egg.

 Eyes wide, he looked around frantically for the mother. All he found were more bushes, and under them, more eggs. No nests, paw prints, feathers, or tufts of fur to indicate any Pokemon living there at all. No birdsong, he realized. No insect wings buzzing, no yips from a Mightyena pack…almost like the forest was in stasis. The silence ate at him, and the air began to feel heavy. He swallowed, his stomach twisting unhappily.

 He looked back at the egg he had found. It was mostly black, but had a yellow top with a red stripe outlining a black triangle. He stroked the shell, noticing how cold it was. If he left it here, would he condemn it to death? Could he even take it with him? He didn’t have a backpack or one of those portable incubators to carry it in, but he couldn’t leave it there. He picked it up, cuddling it against his chest, and stood, ignoring the persistent cold that his thin cotton shirt did nothing to protect him from.

 He turned, and across the clearing, he saw two other figures. One was taller than him, with short hair and a purple and black jacket. The other was much shorter, and presumably younger, than him; she wore her hair in a high ponytail, with a white tee shirt and a denim skirt. They didn’t seem to notice him, or each other; they merely bent down in front of different bushes, picked up their eggs, and began to fade.

The world faded to black.

* * *

 

“Cole!”

 He groaned, eyes refusing to open. They felt like he had rubbed sand in them; he hadn’t had nearly enough sleep. He forced himself to sit up and squinted at Katya. “Wassup?” he asked groggily.

 She rolled her eyes at him. “I think you drooled on your folder,” she informed him. She snickered as he wiped guiltily at it. “Did you want to sleep in an actual bed?” she asked. “Or did you plan on taking over the kitchen table?”

 “Bed, please.” He stumbled to his feet, groaning at the dull ache in his ribs from falling asleep over the table. He followed after her, leaning on counters, tables, and walls to keep from falling over. “Wha-a-a,” he yawned. Shaking it off, he tried again. “What time’s it?”

 Katya checked her watch. “Just after five,” she informed him, voice disgustingly cheerful. “What were you doing, anyway?” she asked, ignoring his grumbling.

 “Reading,” he half-mumbled. No wonder he felt so terrible; he had probably only had a couple hours before she woke him back up. But that booklet had been interesting, and he been studying it in hopes of calming his nerves about turning in the paperwork.

 “Try reading in bed,” she advised. “That way if you fall asleep you have a pillow.” She opened a door. “I put all your stuff in here earlier.”

 “Thanks,” he mumbled. He crossed to the bed and collapsed on it, kicking off his shoes and wiggling out of his shirt. He turned to face the alarm clock as the door closed, the bright green numbers reading 5:07. That dream had been funny, he mused. No Pokemon, just eggs…all green and warm…like a wild Pokemon nursery…the Nursery Forest…

 The clock ticked over to 5:08, but he was already asleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it :)

**Author's Note:**

> And there you have it! Feedback is, of course, welcome.


End file.
